


hide in your arms

by dreamofspring



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, OC cameo, Yuki (temporarily) turns into a cat, non-canon for Momo's Re:member, possible spoilers for Re:vale's backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 04:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofspring/pseuds/dreamofspring
Summary: Following an accident that shook the entertainment world and the disappearance of his partner, Yuki of Re:vale is thought to have locked himself in, avoiding public eye. Amidst the unease and rumors, on the way back to his tiny apartment, Sunohara Momose finds a strange gray cat that seems to have some connection to Ban-san. What's more, the cat recognizes Momo's face?





	hide in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> Besides the obvious fantasy element, the story diverges from Re:vale's canon backstory in a certain significant event. It's spelled out later, but easy to figure out beforehand. Still, **warning** for spoilers.
> 
> This was written before Momo's Re:member chapters, so it doesn't follow the characterization there, but you can look at it as an AU also in that aspect ^^;

Momo zips his old running jacket - the closest his sparse wardrobe held to a raincoat - up to his neck, pulling his hood as low as he can. At this hour, only the neons of a few bars and the wide, inviting sign of the conbini illuminate the night. Counting the change remaining from his last paycheck in his head, Momo wavers; should he seek shelter at the convenience store, and risk temptations he can’t afford, or press on home? He can just imagine the clerk’s tired, anxious face; being there himself a while ago, he’d feel bad for loitering. Once a firm decision is made, Momo digs his hands into his pockets and lowers his head against the wind, when a noise like a wail breaks through the music from his earphones.

At first, Momo is convinced that the weather is playing tricks on his ears. It would be too cliche; a storm in the middle of the night, an empty street, and a soggy box with a note in front and a terrified animal inside - but once he gets close, within the square of light cast by the conbini’s front entrance, he sees it.

There is no note asking to take it in; there isn’t even a box. Just a sopping wet kitten, deep misery reflected in its big, round eyes, trying to find a single dry spot under a narrow shop awning. Due to the fierce wind, the strip of cloth above its head is no protection at all; the poor thing spins around, stepping from paw to paw and curling tighter and tighter in on itself, even though its long fur is already plastered flat to its sides.

Being so small, it cannot trigger the automatic door; behind the counter, Momo spots the young clerk craning his head and wringing his hands, probably about that exactly. It’s not that Momo doesn’t understand; once the cat barged inside, not only it would take someone heartless to chase it out, but it would just be nigh impossible, from the practical here’s-warmth-and-food-no-way point of view, and that means trouble for the worker, but it still leaves a bad taste in Momo’s mouth. If he’s shivering in his jacket, with plenty of muscle, something so small and thin can’t have much body warmth left.

Without thinking, Momo slowly drops to his knees, extending his arms.

“Come here, come here… The rain’s getting worse, we have to get you inside.” The cat takes a small step back, meowing warily, when the bent cable causes one of Momo’s earphones to fall off and to the ground. The song has just changed to one of Re:vale’s louder ones, though Momo still has it turned up louder than necessary. Ruri has always scolded him about that, back at home; now, it makes the song flow into the night, and surprisingly, attracting the kitten’s attention.

Slowly, cautiously, and all while completely ignoring Momo’s presence, the kitten trots up and paws at the earphone with great interest. Once Ban-san’s vocal comes in, the kitten gives another wailing cry.

“Hey, kitty… Did your owner listen to them at home? Could you be a Re:vale fan? Me too!” Momo wiggles his fingers in the air, “Hey, would you look at me, please?”

Just when Momo thinks he’s found a common ground with the animal, the cat deliberately pushes the earphone into a deep puddle, complaining in a thin voice. The pull causes the other earphone to fall out of Momo’s ear too, to meet the same fate. Surprised, Momo is late snatching them up.

“Done listening already? Do you like them or hate them? This is the only pair I have, you know?”

The cat doesn’t seem a slightest bit sorry. However, it doesn’t really seem satisfied, either. Well, Momo sighs inwardly, no wonder.

“You really are free spirited, aren’t you?” Momo laughs; in response, he gets a look that could be called questioning. “Are you surprised I’m not mad? It takes more than that, haha! I feel like we’d be a good match!”

No reaction. Well, that’s still fine. All Momo is worried about is the kitty getting sick; his visits to cat cafes taught him that trying to pick it up by force would be a bad idea, the poor thing’s shivers are getting worse.

“But where are my manners? You haven’t seen my face properly, yet! This is no way to make friends!” Not minding the rain - he’s already wet, anyway - he throws back his hood and grins.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Momo. What does one say for a self introduction…” If someone showed up in the old shopping district now, they’d surely think Momo has gone crazy. Who gives a proper self-introduction to a cat? Between coworkers at Momo’s various part-time jobs and his old classmates, it’s not like he has no one to open his mouth to, though lately, he could feel his mouth going stiff from smiling around others. The thought is alien, like not his - Mama used to say Momo was born with a smile on his face, so what is that about, now? Maybe he really is going crazy. “ I have an older I used to play soccer, and my favourite singers are Re:vale…Whoops, I already mentioned that. What’s your name? Did someone leave you here? You must be freezing. My place doesn’t have much, but at least, it’s dry warmer than here - well, somewhat - Huh?”

The cat is leaning its paws against Momo’s knees, observing him intently. It’s unusual, gray eyes hold a human-like intelligence, and Momo could swear that he sees an expression of recognition in their depths. As if the cat knew him from somewhere…

The moment is broken when thunder strikes somewhere nearby, and at the same time, a loud crashing noise comes from above their heads; startled by the thunder, someone must’ve dropped something heavy.

The cat leaps up into Momo’s arms, making him stagger when hit in the center of the chest. It doesn’t wait, climbing with claws out, until until it reaches Momo’s shoulder. A wet, shaking head presses into Momo’s neck, it’s ears tickling his chin.

“Aren’t you a cuddly little thing?” Momo laughs, supporting the kitten - or, Momo begins to wonder, perhaps it’s one of those breeds that just never get big - with a hand. “What an awful weather, hmm? But it’s fine, it’s fine… You’re safe. Home may not be much, but at least, we won’t be hit by thunder. Maybe we can even find something you like.”

The way the cat clings on for dear life, it's like it already found something it likes, and it’s Momo himself.

 

The warmth seeping into Momo’s body lessens the weight in his chest, but he still can’t stop thinking of empty shelves, wind blowing through the fridge, and the heating that works so well he has to wear layers to bed. Maybe there’s something he forgot - didn’t that nice grandma from downstairs share some milk she got on sale, crooning about how Momo wasn’t growing properly? It was on sale, though, so it might’ve gone off already… But aren’t cats not supposed to drink milk? So that’s no good, too...

“I couldn’t have left it there,” Momo says out loud, trying to convince himself. “Not in this storm. No one else was coming.”

Save for the conflicted clerk, the conbini was empty, the streets too. Even if any drunktard was going to tumble out of one of the bars, they wouldn’t have noticed the cat. By the time it was morning -

“You don’t mind that I took you, right?” He asks, voice going up in unease. The meow he gets in response could mean anything.

As soon as they get back, another issue rears its head. The first thing Momo does is crank up the heating to the maximum and put on the kettle, then search for something to dry the cat with. However, like some delicate prince, he - turns out the cat is a he - protests at even the most gentle attempts Momo makes to towel off his fur, making dignified huffs and less dignified sputters and sneezes, but when left alone, instead of helping himself, the cat just sits and mewls unhappily. It’s movements seem awkward and slow, even as it runs away from approaching Momo; Momo’s chest squeezes in worry, imagining every kind of health problem under the sun. How much does a vet visit cost?

“Maybe he just went stiff from the cold,” he whispers into the drab room, and louder, “Hey, little buddy… I know. It must’ve been so scary. But look how brave you are! You made it to safety! What a good kitty, good boy…” Lulled by the sound of Momo’s voice, the cat finally allows his fur to be dried. “Who could’ve cast you out? You’re such a sweetheart! And if your eyes are anything to go by, I’m sure you must be so pretty - ”

Momo is the one who says it, but once the cat emerges in all of its glory, Momo can’t hold back a gasp. It’s still on the small size, even with dry fur making the cat look larger, but everything, from his silvery-white mane to the graceful air that surrounds him when he sits with a fluffy tair wound around his legs screams expensive, purebred pupil of a good family. As the cat licks its paw, looking straight out of a commercial for the top shelf cat food that costs more per can than Momo has to live on for a week, Momo quietly crosses off “abandoned” from the list of possible scenarios.

Even if the owners grew tired of him - the ball of fluff slowly looks up at Momo, a picture of sleepy innocence, a sound Momo didn’t know he was capable of making escapes his mouth. All of the cat’s hijinks, from the almost drowned headphones, the claw marks on Momo’s chest to the glass a dexterous tail broke while they were playing tag  around the table are erased from his memory without a trace. _Even_ if someone grew tired of this angel, which is _extremely_ unlikely, they’d sooner sell him. A cat so beautiful could well be worth more than Momo’s dingy hole of a stigmatized apartment - not like that would be much of an achievement. Still, Momo can’t help a feeling that he and the cat are from different worlds.

“Someone’s got to be looking for you,” Momo sighs, scratching idly behind the cat’s ear; it surprises him how disappointed his own voice sounds. “Let me plug in my phone. We have to look at missing pet notices.”

A loud sound of disapproval is drowned out by the whizzing of the kettle. The water always takes a long time to boil, here.

“Wait, I’ve got something you’re going to love!”

True enough, Momo only turns around to make himself some cheap bagged tea everyone in his parents’ generation would scoff at - for once, he’s willing to admit that soda may not be the drink for the occasion, though that itself makes Momo wonder if he’s not sick, himself - but by the time he looks back at his futon, the cat is already curled up on top of the hot water bottle. Forgetting all about missing pet notices, Momo quickly finishes the tea and while it still burns inside of his throat, he mutters,

“Hey, share a bit…”

Momo curls his body around both the cat and the bottle, burying his face in the soft fur. He’s asleep in seconds.

 

Momo leans heavily against his locker, downing a bottle of water in a few gulps. Next to him, a quiet, but shrewd co-worker that spotted cat hair on him the moment Momo came in, flips through her smartphone.

“Nothing here, either,” she reports, “No notices that matches the place and your photo. I checked all the sites I know.”

“Thank you,” Momo sighs, putting the still cold bottle against his forehead. “I didn’t know where to check…”

“Are you going to post one yourself?”

“I can try - It’s not paid, is it?”

The girl sighs, giving him a sharp look that doesn’t match her gentle, unassuming features. “What about the cat food?”

“I got some this morning! It’s fine - Mion-chan?“

Before he gets the chance to finish, Mion is gone in a flutter of a long, curly ponytail. It feels like Momo only blinks, and two plastic bags are held in his face.

“Food. Litter. Take it. Yes, there’s still enough left for my cats, no, you don’t have to give it back. You took my shifts when I had to go to the vet,” she reminds him, in a tone which seems to suggest that settles everything. “You can’t take care of an animal if you collapse from skipping meals.”

Though the air they give off couldn’t be more different - Sunohara Ruri, with a disposition almost as cheerful as that of her brother, and a penchant for having her head up in the clouds, wouldn’t be so brutally matter-of-fact - she would probably trail off in the middle - suddenly, Momo is a small kid again, getting an earful from his older sister. A strong longing for home overwhelms him, breaking down his defenses. It has… been a while.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Mion-chan… The gap from your first impression is as fearsome as ever, too!”

The remark is not dignified with a response. “Momose-kun! Give and take is the foundation of society! We pet owners need to stick together! In the age of overtime, no place to go for walks, a thousand of brands making your head spin, and apartments that don’t allow animals, more than ever - “ Momo is in the middle of imagining her on a podium, delivering an impassioned speech in front of droves of cat lovers about to elect her as the leader of the Cat Party, when she stops mid-motion of wagging her finger,  “Momose-kun, your apartment _does_ allow pets, doesn’t it?”

Luckily, it turns out that it does, though Momo suspects it’s more that no one could care less what happens to a place like his. His co-worker exhales in relief.

“Speaking of which… That band member you liked?”

The atmosphere immediately grows heavier. Momo slowly shakes his head.

“They’re an idol duo, not a band,” he corrects automatically, “But no. No news yet.”

“Some people make it sound silly, but there’s some serious stuff going on, isn’t there? First, your idol disappears, you have a cat to worry about… Don’t lose heart, Momose-kun.”

“You know I never do!” Momo laughs, though even he can tell it doesn’t sound very convincing. “I’ll let you know if anything happens!”

“...Send me the kitty pictures, too.”

 

Once his shift is over, he rushes home, grabbing a newspaper on the way. His new fluffy roommate walks up to the door in fluid, graceful steps. Momo’s spirits lift a little seeing that the cat seems to be better after resting.

“Were you hungry? I got something special for you, from this nice lady - “

The cat gives a loud, irritated mrrow, causing Momo to giggle. “Are you jealous? Hey, let me through, I have to find something to put the food on -”

But the cat goes in circles and slaloms between his legs, close enough to trip him if he tried to take a step. Momo recalls something he’s read about cats rubbing against things, and grins widely. “You _are_ jealous! Come here, Momo-chan will give you a big hug!”

While the hug is received with a long, rumbly purr - the first one! Momo notes delightedly - the food is met with a great amount of distrust and distaste. Momo can’t even put the dish down in peace - while he’s still emptying to satchet, the cat jumps up onto the counter and slowly, deliberately, pushes the dish off, covering the floor in broken ceramic and sauce. Momo is prepared for loses, but he still has to plead and coax almost every bite into the petulantly twisted mouth, getting clawed up for his trouble. What’s amazing is that even though he’s evidently sulking, the cat still decides to sit in Momo’s lap after such an offending experience. It gives Momo hope that one day, he will be forgiven, and an incentive to go all out on the petting and snuggling

“What a kind darling you are… I’m sorry, you know I just don’t want you to starve, right? I’ve got no idea when you last ate. Oh, I know!” Momo beams, “Your name will be Darling! Because you’re just so adorable and sweet, yeah, you are…”

Finally, Momo can get started on his own dinner and the newspaper. He already expects it, but when he flips to the entertainment section, his heart sinks.

“Ban-san… ”

The weight on Momo’s lap is lifted. There’s a tap-tap of small feet over paper. The cat stops over the picture of Ban, puts one paw on his cheek, and meows, loud and and pitiful. With a gaze full of desperate urgency, it seems to be asking, “Do something!”  

“Wait… Could you be Ban-san’s cat?”

Another heart-rending wail. Momo tries to piece the story together in his head.

“Did you escape when he didn’t come home? That’s... “ Momo doesn’t want to think about what that means. “I’m so sorry, he whispers, “I was - am their fan, I went to their concerts, even send a fan-letter, but…” Momo recalls sitting in front of the livestream window on Christmas Eve, watching the one concert Ruri took her boyfriend to, instead, and his own helplessness as some band barged on stage, targeting Yuki-san. Though Ban-san managed to hold them off until some level-headed fan called the police, but in the confusion, blood flew. If only Momo was there, he’d never let… Even though Re:vale was who made him feel like he could stand up again, and Mikansei no Bokura still sounded like it was written for him to speak directly to him, the guilt created a rift between Momo and his beloved group he has no idea how to bridge.

“Yuki-san looked so frightened,” Momo whispers, not sure himself what he’s referring to - the Bloody Eve, or Ban-san’s accident. Darling headbutts his hand, but Momo is too absorbed in his memories to react. “So scared and lost. I wanted to do… Protect him somehow, and I couldn’t… I hope he’s okay. I hope Yuki-san is okay.”

It takes tiny claws poking into Momo’s thighs, but Darling finally manages to get his attention. With an uncharacteristic sigh, he picks the cat up and brings their faces close, until their noses almost touch. Despite everything, Momo can’t not smile when faced with those eyes and tiny whiskers.

“At least, I can take care of you, somewhat. Don’t worry! If you’ll have me, I’ll keep you company until Ban-san is found. I promise! This way, neither of us will be lonely.”

“Miaaaa? Miaaaaa!”

“No, no, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m all fine, see? I have sis, and everyone… Where are they? Aren’t you a sharp little guy! It’s just…” Just what? “Football player or not, it was time to get myself together and stop troubling everyone. I’m doing my best to study and work now! Isn’t that a bit cool?”

It’s easy to pinpoint the moment when Darling stops listening, because Momo finds himself literally being pushed back. Though Darling doesn’t have enough strength to move him, with the way he headbutts, leans against Momo’s chest with both paws and pushes, to then move on to trying to weigh him down by hanging off his front, the intention is obvious: lie down.

“Hey, Darling, hold up - I still have my other part time job after this!”

Darling is unmoved. Darling doesn’t care.

“Can I get on the futon, at least? The floor is cold!”

After some consideration, moving to the futon is graciously allowed.

Soon, though, Momo realizes that he’s not going anywhere else today. Darling twists into a pretzel on his chest, purring furiously and generating as much warmth as a tiny heater. Momo’s natural body temperature is child-like warm, but he can’t lie that it doesn’t make a difference.

“Rest,” Darling seems to be saying. “No moving. You are now my bed.”

“I suppose I’ll call in sick, then,” Momo laughs faintly. His head does hurt a bit.

 

The ‘found a pet’ notice sits in Momo’s drafts for days, unposted; he does look at the missing pet notices regularly, but no cat even similar to Darling shows up. To Momo’s delight, Darling settles in, sticking close to him every second Momo spends at home. Protecting Darling from the bugs in the kitchen makes him a hero in the panicked cat’s eyes, and less of a disappointment in his own. Darling still disapproves of all the food that shows up on the table, be it his or Momo’s, oddly enough - he probably just dislikes the smell of eggs, Momo knows, but it’s still nice to imagine that he wants Momo to eat better. Worrying about the kitty not eating much takes Momo’s mind off what’s on his own plate, while his constant presence and antics are almost enough to make him not think about Re:vale. While Momo is washing the dishes, Darling sits on the edge of the sink, dipping the fluffy tail in the warm water and stirring the surface lightly; Momo laughs, asking if Darling is trying to help out, and can’t help being impressed when Darling causes a bunch of colorful soap bubbles to float up as he pulls out his tail out in distaste. It’s such a neat trick! The cat even slips into the tiny bathroom as Momo bathes, exploring the shelves, hiding in the sink and filling it completely like his body is liquid, only to jump out like a spring when a drop of water falls onto his back, or curling up on the readied pile of clothes, rolling around to cover Momo’s pajamas in cat fur.

It’s how Momo notices that Darling doesn’t smell like a cat. No matter how many times Momo brings his shirt to his nose, he can’t describe the smell mixed with his own, just that it’s different from the one he remembers from cat cafes. Darling sleeps a lot, taking special delight in sleeping on top of Momo, like on their second day together, and that in itself wouldn’t be strange, if not for how, when awake, Darling never plays or hunts. Ignoring rolled up paper and string, as well as anything else Momo tries to throw together, not minding the birds outside, Darling spends most waking moments scrutinizing Momo with quiet, unreadable eyes. Each time Momo retells his day, or starts chattering about everything and nothing in particular, Darling seems to be listening to each and every word. Often, Momo will come full circle to talk about Re:vale, mentioning some amusing Twitter exchange from the past that pops into his mind - Yuki-san doesn’t seem like one for social media, posting only ever to reply to Ban, and then making it known that the whole thing is a waste of time since they could just talk in private, but that’s what makes his curt replies so cute - or going over changes in performances of the same song most fans wouldn’t notice, but if you paid attention, their growth shows in every detail, or about how steadily their recognition climbs… Only to fall silent, a heavy load pressing down on him until he can hardly breathe. Of course, both of Re:vale’s accounts have been dead since that disastrous light fixture accident; of course, there have been no performances since then. No matter where you looked, all people talk about is not their music, but Ban’s injury and disappearance.

“At least Yuki-san… Yuki-san needs to sing!”

Yuki was muted when faced with the crowd, not much change in his expression - there was even a time when he wouldn’t look up at the fans or meet anyone’s eye - but once the music started, no one could say that he wasn’t where he wanted to be, doing what he was born to do. Ban-san’s natural charisma and kind smile drew in everyone’s gazes, Momo’s too, but there was something… soothing about watching Yuki in his own world, slowly spreading his wings and taking flight towards them all. The subtle ways joy began to show on his face was like balm on Momo’s heart, but also filled him with longing to stretch out his arms and meet him halfway. Momo had almost forgotten how it felt to be so bold.

The fear of Yuki’s voice fading doesn’t leave him, like a bad premonition impossible to push away. It’s at the back of Momo’s mind even when his eyes are closing by themselves, aching from the glare of the screen in a darkened room. He’s scrolling through his timeline before bed, with Darling curled against his ribs, hidden in Momo’s half-zipped jacket, when _those_ news hit.

Though no official account confirms it, the information spreads like wildfire among the fans. It’s not just Ban-san anymore; Yuki-san is missing, too. No one has seen him for days, not Ban-san’s neighbors, nor Yuki’s own family. Today, when the lease for Ban’s apartment officially ended, the landlord entered the place to find it deserted. Yuki-san hasn’t locked himself in, like some believed for the past few weeks; he was gone without a trace.

“No…”

Woken up by the abrupt change in Momo’s heartbeat, Darling raises a voice of protest. When Momo’s breathing as well becomes short and erratic, Darling’s meows turn sharp and full of worry. The cat bats angrily at the smartphone until its knocked out of Momo’s hands. When even that doesn’t help Darling headbutts Momo’s chin.

_Stop that, stop that! Stop doing that!_

Momo exhales shakily and wraps his arms around Darling, hugging the cat to his chest.

“Yuki-san…”

Darling wriggles uncomfortably, whining, but Momo doesn’t seem to hear. He pushes himself up to sitting and with a deep breath, takes a look at his phone again. Short, choppy posts, typos and crying gifs and grim reaction images fill up his feed, but there are some comments that tell a different tale. The words sear themselves under Momo’s eyelids. His whole body begins to shake, but this time, not with fear.

“How dare they…”

No matter if it was open hostility or veiled biting remarks, Momo could always take anything thrown into his face with a smile and turn it around, knocking the weapon out of the opponents hands before they realized what was going on. For some reason, it’s only words directed at Re:vale and Yuki-san that don’t miss the mark. Piercing into his heart, they awaken a rage he’s only felt once before - for the same person.

“I need a keyboard,” Momo declares, as if a trance, and with the cat still zipped up in his jacket, stands up. Darling can only dig his claws in and protest in vain; soon, they’re out. Momo heading somewhere only he knows with long, purposeful strides. He almost runs, not forgetting to hold onto Darling hidden inside of his clothes, but at the same time, seeming to not be fully aware of the problem with taking the cat along.

“If you’re really Ban-san’s cat, I’m sure you know,” Momo says suddenly, “Yuki-san isn’t a bad person. He may be hard to understand, but he’s kind - but I can tell. I trust him! He’d never - “

They arrive at an internet cafe, open through the night. The sleep-deprived owner either doesn’t notice, or decide that the customer who just came in with a cat poking out near his neck is a dream, because Momo takes his seat without trouble. His hands begin to fly over the keyboard, typing as furiously as if he was trying to break it. He doesn’t make personal insults, doesn’t curse - _not to their level, I won’t -_ but the cold fury radiating from his words makes most give up. Once his notifications finally quiet down, Momo looks around for a piece of paper and a pen and writes down every bit of information he can get his hands on, even the most insignificant rumor. By the time he’s filled two pages, his back is creaking, his eyes full of sand. Darling has been keeping quiet, though he hasn’t spared Momo’s legs. The kneading would have been relaxing, if not for the extended claws. Momo slumps forward until his forehead touches the keys. It’s a while before he picks himself up and goes home.

 

“What am I even doing? Picking fights on the internet like some mad dog…”

Shuffling back to his apartment, with Darling now properly seated in his arms, Momo gives a humorless laugh. “Darling, am I scary?

“Mew!”

“I wonder what that meant? Anyway, I’ll… Tomorrow…”

He falls asleep in his clothes, on top of the covers.

 

At some point, the soft paws pushing into Momo’s side are replaced by a slender, pleasantly cold palm laid over his face, stroking gently. Too exhausted to sense the change of air in the room, Momo only stirs when his hand reaching where the sleeping kitty should be finds nothing. He slowly unsticks his eyelids, blinking with difficulty… and on the other side of the futon he sees a pair of grey eyes in a pale, delicate face blinking slowly, intently back.

Momo knows this face like few others. But it can’t be -

“Y-Yuki-s-san??!”

Yuki’s face is infinitely more tranquil than when Momo saw him last, wet with tears and twisted in abject terror for Ban. His hair is a bit disheveled, and longer than Momo remembers it; there’s some disorientation in his expression, as if he just woke up after sleeping through the whole day.

“Am I dreaming right now?”

“No. Awaee. Miao-mo-” Momo’s eyes widen; The sounds that leave Yuki’s mouth are half meows, half words, strangely drawn out. Momo only recognizes his own name by the tone and emphasis behind it. Yuki furrows his eyebrows, clearly dissatisfied. His frown seems to be saying, _That’s not how that was supposed to sound._ “Sleep,” he finally manages. He pushes down the wrist of Momo’s outstretched hand in a gesture that’s distinctly cat-like. “Nnn-uh. _Sleep_.”

An absurd conclusion begins to form in Momo’s mind. “Darli-”he starts, when Yuki wraps his arms around him and hugs Momo to his chest. Momo recognizes the scent of Darling’s fur, the one that never seemed quite right.

“Yuki-san! Everyone’s looking for you!”

Yuki shakes his head. “Momo found me.”

Long fingers stroke through Momo’s hair. Momo returns the embrace. There is cloth between them; Yuki-san must have tugged a sheet from below Momo. He can feel Yuki’s back shivering slightly under his fingers. Momo begins to rub wide circles into his skin, trying to warm him up.

“Momo. Thank you.”

Momo’s breathing turns shaky. There’s so much he needs to ask, but there’s no way he could keep his voice from breaking. “You won’t go?”

“Mrrn. Won’t go. I have no clothes...”

The laughter clears out something thick and heavy from Momo’s chest. It feels like it’s been there for a very long time. “Yuki-san, you’re purring…”

They just breathe, until the morning comes.

 

The morning is… awkward. No matter how hard Momo tries, nothing quite matches trying to force your idol to put on your own spare clothes (Yuki-san, I know they’re too short, but I’m begging you -) to wash up in the bathroom, and with the door closed (We’re not talking about you watching me bathe! No!) and then, when breakfast comes up, dealing with the realization that he’s been forcing a vegetarian to eat meat. No wonder Darling was so choosy with his food, Momo groans inwardly, hiding his face in his hands. To Momo’s defense, he’s pretty sure real cats can’t be vegetarian.

Yuki-san sits across the table, shifting slightly from time to time. Fascinated, Momo watches him rub his eyes - he’s not using his fingers like people usually do, but a whole curled hand, like a paw.

“Yuki-san… You were my Darling all this time, weren’t you? How did that happen?”

Yuki looks down and to the side. “...You saw that concert.”

He doesn’t have to specify which one.

“I was there. With my sis. I saw everything. I’m sorry… I didn’t know what to do.”

“There wasn’t anything you could do,” Yuki says, his voice colorless. “Me, though…”

“Yuki-san, you neither - !“

Yuki slowly shakes his head.“I’ll tell you. Someday.”

Silence falls. Momo doesn’t expect Yuki to break it himself, but after a longer moment, he speaks up again.

“I don’t know… where Ban is. Either. I kept imagining the worst, and then worse than worst. I didn’t know what “worst” was anymore. I was alone in his apartment, and I didn’t want to… be me. It didn’t make sense, without Ban.”

Momo sucks in a sharp breath.

“I wanted to be something small. Something with no voice. I don’t remember much, from the day with the storm… but I remember you found me.”

“You recognized me.”

“From the letter, and the crowd. Somehow I remembered.”

Momo’s fists tighten, until his knuckles go white. He has to say it properly, not to a fluffy little cat, but the person in front of him. Yuki-san has to hear it, from him.

“Yuki-san! Please!” Momo leans forward, taking Yuki’s hand in his own. It shivers, but Yuki doesn’t take it back. “Please, sing again! I’m begging you, keep singing!”

Yukis chin shakes dangerously, as if he was about to cry. Momo strokes his palm with his fingers.

“On my own, it doesn’t…”

“Yuki-san. You could understand me, right? All the things I was saying to you. I could tell, that you were listening.”

Yuki nods, once. "I think that's why... Nevermind."

“I said I would keep you company. I may not be able to replace Ban-san, but until we find him, I won’t let you be lonely. I meant it.”

Momo meets Yuki’s gaze head on. Yuki does this slow blink thing, again; it feels significant, though Momo doesn’t know why.

“You won’t disappear?”

The memory of their first conversation makes Momo smile. It seems like a dream, and yet, amazingly, it wasn’t. None of this was. “I won’t.”

 

* * *

 

It's the third time Momo leaves his phone unlocked on the table in the dressing room. Yuki shakes his head in disbelief; he might've been long doomed without Momo taking care of him, but for such a responsible boy, he's much too trusting. He doesn't know, yet; doesn't know that the entertainment business is full of people like Kujou.  But perhaps, the reason every person they deal with - as long as Momo gets to them first - ends up his friend, is because he sees them that way, first.

The screen is lit up with a text message notification. Yuki doesn't mean to peek, he just grabs the phone awkwardly, the screen reacting weird to his hands drenched in sweat from practice. The message opens by itself.

"Momo-kun," Yuki calls out, voice raising anxiously, "Who is this? And why do they know me?"

Attached to the text, there is a very blurry picture of Yuki; he recognizes a screenshot from an online livestream. The text reads, "Congratulations on your first performance! But, Momose-kun, did you ever show me his photo? I feel like I've seen him before..."

" _Momo-kun!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dreamofspring)


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